


crashed

by mxkeclemmings



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Car Accidents, M/M, Sad, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:19:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4148025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxkeclemmings/pseuds/mxkeclemmings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One minute he was staring at Michael’s joyous face, and the next he was staring into bright headlights, and his body was taken over by a violent impact. They skidded, and rolled, and toppled down a ditch on the side of the road, coming to a sudden halt at the bottom. </p><p>the boys get into a car crash+the aftermath</p>
            </blockquote>





	crashed

**Author's Note:**

> it's ok I guess

It had been a regular Saturday night back home. Ashton had been driving the boys around town, and they ended up on a road out to the country, hearts set on stargazing. The sparse countryside stretched for miles, and encountering another car was a rarity.

The boys were jamming out to the radio, Michael singing at the top of his lungs while Luke strummed violently on his air guitar. Ashton and Calum sung along quietly, smiling ear to ear at their friends’ antics. 

Michael reached over from the passenger seat to pull obnoxiously at Ashton’s shirt sleeve. 

“Sing louder, ash!” Michael laughed, “Live a little.”

At that, Ashton reached over to turn the radio full blast, rolling the car window down and screaming the lyrics to the song as loud as he could. Calum and Luke were cracking up in the backseat, and Ashton glanced over to see a bright smile illuminating Michael’s face—the good, real smile that scrunched up his face and made his eyes light up from pure happiness. He looked so young. 

Ashton threw his head back and belted a verse, getting caught up in the music and his bandmates’ laughter, no longer paying close attention to the road in front of them. 

He would have seen the headlights of a truck swerving drunkenly towards their small car, too fast for even the country highway. 

One minute he was staring at Michael’s joyous face, and the next he was staring into bright headlights, and his body was taken over by a violent impact. They skidded, and rolled, and toppled down a ditch on the side of the road, coming to a sudden halt at the bottom. 

Ashton blacked out before they made it down the hill. 

~~~

The first thing Ashton heard as his eyes began to blink open, was screaming. It was horrible. The screams were guttural and sharp, and they sounded absolutely terrified. They began cutting off into painful sobs that echoed around the otherwise silent surroundings. 

As Ashton’s eyes began adjusting, the realization of what had happened shoking him into conciousness. The images of the crash ricocheted throughout his mind and he desperately fought through the heaviness of his eye lids to assess the situation they were in. 

It quickly became apparent that Michael was the one screaming. His side of the car had gotten the full impact of the crash, and it had obviously obtained the most damage. Michael’s lower body was crushed by the disfigured metal of the car. The arm closest to Ashton was bent at an impossible angle and Ashton caught a glimpse of white bone sticking out near his elbow. 

Ashton felt like he was going to throw up. 

He tried to stretch his head back to assess Calum and Luke in the backseat, but when he went to turn around, a sharp pain erupted in his right side. He shut his eyes tightly, crying out at the sharp sting. His hands shakily traveled to his abdomen, searching for the source of the agony. His hands felt around clumsily before making contact with a long piece of metal jutting from his side. Ashton looked down slowly, panic filling him as he stared at the red blood blooming around his wound. They needed help.

Ashton’s eyes searched frantically for one of their phones, quickly locating Michael’s lying slightly to his left. He reached languidly towards the phone, once again crying out in pure aguish as pain shot through his body. Another hand reached towards it from the back, successfully reaching it and grasping onto it. 

“I’ve got it Ash,” came Calum’s raspy voice from the back. Ashton nodded, not trusting anything but pained whimpering to come from his mouth. He listened to the sound of dialing and ringing in the backseat. The operator answered.

“We’ve been hit by another car out in the middle of no where…” Calum paused, listening as the operator spoke. 

“I think i’m in the best shape. I think the others are very hurt. I don’t know how hurt. Michael seems like he’s gonna die. I feel like we’re going to die…” he was rambling, panic taking over him in waves, and Ashton could hear the rasp of his quickening breathes intermingled with the sharp intakes of air that Michael kept omitting. The lady kept talking to Calum over the line, talking to him calmly, asking him to describe their surroundings and telling him that help was coming soon. 

It wasn’t too much time between Calum hanging up the phone and the sounds of emergency vehicles racing towards their location. Calum sobbed with relief when he heard the sirens. Ashton’s eyes began to grow heavy. He looked down at his tee shirt surrounding the piece of metal. It was covered in blood. He looked over at Michael, whose sounds had stopped and his face had gone slack. He reached over, ignoring the pain in his side and brushed the bloody hair out of Michael’s eyes before unconsciousness flooded over him. 

~~~

Ashton woke up to an annoying beeping noise. His eyes felt heavy and his body felt weighted to the bed. Opening his eyes seemed to be a mistake; the bright lights of the room blinded him, and it elicited a disgruntled moan to leave his throat. 

“Ashton? Oh god. Ashton!” that was Calum. Ashton turned his face to be met with the sight of Calum’s chocolate colored eyes alarmingly close. He was crying. 

“Oh my god. I’m so happy you're awake. I was going crazy waiting. I was so scared,” Calum was sobbing into his hands from his spot in the chair next to Ashton’s bed. 

“Thirsty,” Ashton croaked. His throat felt like sandpaper. 

“You were out for like a week, bro,” Calum said as he handed Ashton a paper cup filled with water. 

“A week? Are you serious?” A week was a long time. 

“I was so scared. You had surgery as soon as we got here, and I didn't think it'd take that long for you to open your eyes again. God between you and the others I didn't know what to do with myself.”

At the mention of the other boys, Ashton suddenly tenses up. He stares at Calum who has his head buried in his hands. 

“What’s wrong with Luke and Michael?” He asks shakily, throat still sore. 

“Luke is fine. One of his ribs punctured his lungs and he’s got some broken bones and a concussion, but he's doing alright. Michael’s not doing good,” Calum explained shakily. “I mean, he’s going to live. His legs got crushed in the crash and,” Calum gulped, “They had to amputate his left leg.” 

Ashton leaned his head back into the pillow. 

“He’s really mad at the world right now. He’s in a lot of pain. He broke his other leg and his arm had a bunch of screws in it and he cracked a couple ribs. He looks like he got put in a blender— I mean we all do, but I think he got the worst of it.” 

Ashton runs a tired hand through his hair, pulling on the ends. 

“I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. I—” 

“Shut up. It’s not your fault, ok? The guy in the other car was drunk out of his mind. It’s ok. We’re going to be ok,” Calum grabbed Ashton’s hands in his, kissing his knuckles and removing them from his hair. 

“You’ve got to be tired. Go to sleep Ash,” Calum murmured, stroking gentle patterns over his palms. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

With one final glance to the dark haired boy seated next to him, Ashton let himself fall prey to his heavy eyelids, and drifted off into darkness. 

~~~

Calum was not there when he woke up. In fact, Ashton was all alone. He looked around the white-walled room. There were several bundles of flowers decorating the table by his bed along with the accessional "get well soon" card as an accompaniment. He patted along the bed, searching for the button to call a nurse. The aching thirst had returned. 

Once he had managed to press the button on the side of his hospital bed, a nurse hurried into the room, smiling with what Ashton hoped was sincere kindness. 

“Hello Mr. Irwin! I’m glad to see you awake!” The nurse fluttered around him, checking his vitals and chattering away. Ashton didn't have it in him to be annoyed.

“I’m very thirsty,” Ashton whispered to her.  
“Oh! Of course you are, sweety! Why didn't you just say something?” She asks, moving towards the sink to fill up a plastic cup. She brought it over to him and helped him drink. It was cold, and felt good running across his dry tongue and down his parched throat. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled. “Do you know where my friend is? The one with dark hair? He said he’d be here when I woke up. I want to talk to him.” 

“I think he’s with another patient. Would you like me to fetch him?” She asked, brows furrowed.

“No, I’ll be fine. Is there a remote for the TV?” 

~~~

After watching sponge-bob reruns on the small television on the wall across from his bed, Ashton felt like he was going insane. Cabin fever, he thinks. It had only been a full week of actual consciousness and Ashton already wanted to get out of the small room and run down the halls. He bet Michael wanted to run around too. Michael hates being cooped up for too long. 

Ashton sighed to himself, curly hair brushing against the pillow behind his head. He wanted his pillow from home; this one was too lumpy. The sheets were scratchy too, he realized as he shuffle his legs to get more comfortable. 

He was about to lose it. He felt like crying, and screaming, and ripping the IV out of his arm. Just as he was reaching for the needle digging into his wrist, someone familiar came rocketing into his room, startling Ashton and making him jump.

It was Michael, who looked more angry than Ashton had ever seen him. He was in a wheel chair. 

He rolled to the other side of Ashton’s bed and ducked down in the chair so he couldn't be seen from the outside. 

“Don’t fucking say anything. Just pretend your asleep,” Michael whisper yelled, mouth quivering in rage. Ashton stared at him. “Just listen to me. Put your head onto that fucking pillow and don’t say a word.”

Ashton did as he was told this time, letting his body relax as sounds of running footsteps echoed outside the room. As soon as the footsteps were out of earshot, Michael popped his head up from where he was crouched and tapped Ashton on the forehead. 

“Alright, they're gone you can pay attention to me now,” Michael said, giving the curly haired boy a glance. 

“What was that about, Mike?” Ashton asked, confused, but not very surprised at Michael’s strange antics. 

“They wanted to take me to a therapist. I’m not going to a therapist. I’m fucking fine,” Michael seethed, his chest heaving in his unconfined rage. “They can go fuck themselves. I refuse to see a therapist. I refuse, Ashton. Don’t let them take me to the therapist.”  
He was gripping tightly at Ashton’s arm now, fingernails piercing the skin on his arm. 

“Ouch! Mike, let go!” His protests were covered by a hand covering his mouth. 

“Shut up Ashton! They’re going to hear you!” Michael’s eyes looked manic and his voice were laced with an edge of hysteria. Ashton reached for Michael’s wrist, prying his clammy hand away from his mouth. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Ashton yelled, pushing Michael’s hand away from him. Michael’s breathing was rough and stuttering. The sounds of heavy footsteps erupted in the hallway. They were headed towards the room. 

“Don’t let them take me, Ash! I don’t want to go! I want to go home!” He’s backed his chair up into one of the corners of the cramped room, eyes wide as three nurses entered the room. One of the male nurses advanced calmly, hands out in front of him like he was approaching a startled animal. Michael didn’t like this. He abruptly shot forward in the wheelchair, racing forward like a battering ram. 

“Grab him!” The male nurse bellowed and the other two raced to grab the chair. Michael tried to maneuver out of their grasps, but he was clearly not experienced with the chair. They grabbed the handles just as he was propelling himself forward, causing Michael to fly forward, out of the chair and onto the tiled floor. His stump leg kicked out as he struggled to get up. He screamed in frustration. The nurses came towards him again, but Michael lashed out with his casted arm and leg. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Michael screamed. The male nurse said something into his walkie-talkie while Michael continued to squirm on the ground, desperately trying to escape the nurses. Ashton couldn’t stop staring at the stump kicking uselessly against the ground.

Another nurse rushed into the room. This one was holding something— a sedative, Ashton realized. Michael saw it too, and his struggling only increased. He was sobbing, yelling for someone to help him, yelling at Ashton to help him. 

Ashton shut his eyes as they stuck the needle into Michael’s skin.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm going to upload more after this. hopefully.


End file.
